Sakura Drops
by Psychosomatic Insomniac
Summary: "He can't hear any of the words they're saying, but he can imagine. They're soft. Sweet. Innocent. It twists something hard and taut in his chest, leaving him breathless, empty. It should be him making her blush that way. Why isn't it him?"


_Hey, Andreina? _

_This one's for you._

**_*note*_**_: I've only seen a couple episodes of the show at best, so I'm not too familiar with Korra's world yet. Keep that in mind, and if you see anything setting-wise that needs work, just let me know. The only reason the guys are on the Air Temple Island is cause Korra says she's won't learn how to airbend unless the guys learn some bending, too._

_I don't own anything - not the Legend of Korra, not the characters, or even the song I listened to when I wrote this. The only thing I claim is the little, itty-bitty inkling of a plot that's been created. That's mine. And I'm leaving it up to you kiddies to decide if it's any good or not._

_So read on, kids - read on._

* * *

_Book One: Air_

_Chapter One:_

_Sakura Drops_

She weaves water from the stream in between the spaces of her fingers, then slowly spreads her hands out to let it swirl around her body. Bolin grins praise and Mako nods in approval. She moves her hands faster in a fluid flurry of motion around her, breathing deep and clearing her mind like Tenzin taught her.

She closes her eyes to center her chi and snaps them right back open when dark, dark eyes smile at her from behind a mask.

So much for chi, she thinks as the water snaps away from her grip and back into the stream. Bolin looks at her with wide eyes, gaze asking _is something up_? But Mako knows – Mako always knows.

"Breathe, Korra," he instructs calmly, wading through the water with the grace of a real bender. The movement from his hips stirs the stream, leaving wide arcs of water rippling in his wake. She's distracted by it, by him, as the sunlight glints across his chest and teases the flecks of green in his eyes. He's so…so _beautiful._ His brother has become background noise, calming splishes and splashes that don't matter anymore. All that matters is his body carving a path towards her, moving fluidly through the water like it's where he belongs. She can't help but follow a bead of water down the valley of his chest, all the way down to his stomach, flat, and then the silvery bead joins the stream again, and she has to look away – that loose firebender garb is just a little _too_ loose when it's wet, and she can tell the shadowy blur of his pants falls low on his hips under the water – dangerously low.

"Korra," he says her name so gently, so smoothly, it's enough for her mouth to go dry. A blush seeps into her cheeks and she prays, _prays_ to all the Avatars before and after her that he cannot see.

"What?" she says too sharply, too suddenly, as she looks away from his dripping, blinding skin.

He puts his arms on her shoulders and leans his forehead against hers. "You need to breathe."

"I _am_ breathing!" she protests, trying to knock his hands away. His fingertips are warm, almost too warm for this.

His brother murmurs, "Sounds like hyperventilating to me," as he wades away from them to find shade underneath a tree uprooted in the stream.

"Shut up, Bolin" she hisses, eyes darting away from Mako's face as the blush on her cheeks deepens.

She can hear the smile in Mako's voice as he laughs and puts his hands on her arms, guiding them into a loose fighting stance. The heat of his fingers lingers on her skin even after he's pulled away to study her form.

His own cheeks begin to grow hot as he watches the sun glint in her eyes, a clearer blue than the water they wade in. He can't stop his gaze from being captured by a water droplet that streams down her neck and over the valley of her collarbone, before it disappears into her shirt – his cheeks ignite a fiery shade of red as he forces himself to look away. Because although her shirt is loose and airy, he can still see where it dips into a narrow V over her chest – and suddenly, all the saliva in his mouth and on his tongue has evaporated.

"I think I'm gonna go take a nap," Bolin says with a lopsided grin, adding – "the sexual tension between you two is worse than those lame radio dramas the city's still playing."

"Sexual tension?" Mako asks, whirling around sharply, curls of steam leaving his nostrils as he tries his best to control the anger. _Center your chi, center your chi,_ she chants over and over in her head, hoping she's got some sort of telekinesis or telepathy or telesomething power that will let him hear her.

But he's already crouching at the knees, already angling his arms away from his body in a tight, coiled fighting position.

"There is no sexual tension between me and Korra, nor will there be. Her stance needed work, and we all know you can't show her how to fix that, Bolin," Mako says in a low murmur as a smirk spreads across his features.

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Bolin throws back, jaw setting in an angry line.

She follows the set of it, entranced by the sharp, square angles of his face even as his own body curves and coils in a fighting stance of his own. He moves with a grace she never knew he possessed – it's hidden underneath all the sinewy muscle and sharp angles. He's beautiful, too, she realizes with a start.

"You haven't lasted a single round in the pro-bending tournaments by yourself, and you're not doing so hot at practice, either," Mako retorts coolly, swiftly moving his feet apart.

"Yet you think you can advise Korra on the ways of the Avatar?"

"I think I can do whatever the hell I want, Mako," Bolin says, eyes flashing a deadly green in the heat of the sun. "And at least I wasn't getting all hot and heavy over Korra wading towards _me_."

Korra's cheeks ignite in white-hot anger, now. The brothers are moving in wide arcs in the water, leaving ripples that lap against the skin of her sun-kissed stomach. "Both of you, that's enough!" she says as a wall of water rears up from in front of her hands, drenching the two cold.

"The only one who can advise me in the ways of the Avatar _is_ me," Korra hisses.

"The Avatars who stood before me live on in me and only me, and they are the only real ones who can help me. But I don't _want_ anyone's help! I don't _want_ to get trapped in some creepy-ass spirit world I can't control. That's the one thing I hate: losing control. You know what else I hate? When I rip people's relationships apart because they fall all over themselves for me! I may be the Avatar, and I may be a girl, but that doesn't mean it's anything to get all hot and heavy about," she says, dropping her hands, now, shaking from the effort it took to ram them with a six-foot wall of water - almost as tall as Mako himself.

"I think there's tension between all of us. And I think I'm staying away from both of you until you can sort this thing out," she declares, swishing away from them, bending the water before her so she can walk on the riverbed. Pointed rocks and jagged shells scrape up the soles of her feet, but the pain distracts her from the stinging in her eyes.

"Is she…crying?" Mako asks.

"Dude…I think we really messed up this time," Bolin says in a hushed whisper.

"Yes, I think you have, indeed," an ageless voice murmurs from beyond the shore. The boys spin towards the voice in unison, faces lighting up in surprise, and in Bolin's case, fear, as Tenzin himself shrugs off his robes and wades into the water.

"What should we do?" Mako asks, flicking his eyes back towards Korra's retreating form. He falls back into a more relaxed pose, shoulders low and arms at his sides. The water's cooled down since she got out, and he doesn't really feel like firebending to heat it up. The cold's calming his nerves.

"Center your chi, feel the elements working together in harmony around you. Breathe in, pull all the negative emotion into yourself. Breathe out and expel it away from you, outwards and into the air…"

The brothers do as Tenzin suggests, and by the time the session is over, the sun is setting, bleeding light blues and harsh pinks across an ever-darkening sky. Mako sets off to find Tenzin to thank him long after their meditation is over, swiftly weaving his way through the silent, sandy valleys of the island. When he reaches the temple where he knows Tenzin comes to pray, he stops short of the stairs as he realizes he hasn't found Tenzin at all.

It's Korra he sees, eyes dancing in the torchlight of the sacred, hallowed ground. Bolin sits cross-legged across from her, appearing completely centered and ridiculously calm. Silvery petals fall with the breeze around them, cascading down in the sand between them. Some of the petals fall into Korra's hair and on her cheeks. And Bolin just opens his eyes and leans across the soft sand to brush them away, smiling.

He knows what's to happen next, but somehow he just can't bring himself to look away. He has to see this. He has to know.

A smile spreads across Korra's lips as well, and when Bolin leans even closer, the faintest, prettiest blush stains her cheeks. He can't hear any of the words they're saying, but he can imagine. They're soft. Sweet. Innocent. It twists something hard and taut in his chest, leaving him breathless, empty. It should be him, making her blush that way.

Why isn't it him?

The scent of jasmine and rain linger in the air, so sweet it makes him sick. He can't watch this. He can't.

But he has to.

He watches as his brother tugs at the elegant pins holding up Korra's hair, watches as he twists them loose and away. Her hair spills out of its bun in messy, gentle waves that frame her face and make her somehow seem even more beautiful. Soft. Oriental.

It should be him, untying her hair. It should be him, smiling at her in the light of the lanterns.

But as he watches Bolin cup her chin in his hand and kiss her forehead, he knows. He knows she would have never chosen him, even after all the training sessions and the late-night whispers and the long, ludicrous tea ceremonies. After all he's endured for her, after all he's done for her – it's gone, it's a waste.

He sees it now, in the way Bolin holds her, runs his fingers through her hair. His brother is the giving one, the gentle one. His brother is the fluid one, the graceful one. And his brother deserves this happiness after all they've been through.

Bolin deserves Korra, after today.

It's clear in the petals that fall from the trees, whispered in the lanterns that sway in the cool night air. He leaves without a word, disappearing back into the shadows of the forest, back into the shadow of her heart, where he will stay and wait until another night, until another petal falls against her cheek like lulling, soft rain.

On another night, he will get his chance to kiss those petals away. But tonight is not his night. So tonight, he won't disturb the soft sakura drops falling around them, won't disrupt the chi that flows through their intertwined hands and smooth, smiling lips. No, he'll leave the lovers be.

* * *

_Well, that couldn't have been _too _bad, right? _

_...I hope not._

_Anyyway! I really hope _someone _*nudgenudge* appreciated this, since I'm not really big on the pairing. *grins* Korra's listed as the sole character in this fic for a reason - she has to choose, and I think that given the circumstances, she chooses well._


End file.
